I met Adelaide’s gaze full of complacency and provocation. She was calm as water. Benedict did not wait for the expected begging for mercy. His heart was inexplicably flustered.

But soon, his uneasiness was completely enraged by my ambiguous smile. Benedict turned around and took out a box of cakes from the refrigerator. He heavily slammed it on the table.

“This is the birthday cake that Eugene begged me to buy. You'd better be sensible and bring him out to recognize his mistake, otherwise, don't expect me to give him a birthday party in the future!”

It was the first time Benedict bought a birthday cake for our son, Eugene Mortimer. Unfortunately, the cake collapsed due to external forces and revealing the mango inside. I was shocked that Benedict didn’t know that his son was allergic to mangoes.

I caressed the urn in my arms. Then I laughed with tears in my eyes.

I replied to him loudly, “As you wish, my husband. Eugene is really dead. So, there will be no birthday celebrations for him anymore. I swear to you. ”

Benedict's face was suddenly gloomy. Adelaide, who was on the side, covered her mouth hypocritically.

She exclaimed at me, “Rebecca, is it still okay for me to forgive Eugene? If you don't want him to apologize, you don't have to curse your own son, right?”

Benedict was enraged. He suddenly slapped away the urn in my arms with force.

“Rebecca, can you recognize your own position? Don't think that just because you gave me a son, you'll succeed in your position!”

I scrambled to hold the urn out. I held it tightly in my arms.

“Benedict Mortimer! You've already helped her steal everything from me, right? So, why do you still want to kill my son?”

He then realized that he had missed his words and called out my real name. His face reddened as he tried to explain.

I exposed him coldly. “Benedict, Adelaide is the mistress you spit on. Her mother is also a mistress!”

He realized that he couldn't hide it anymore. Benedict then smashed the urn with a sullen face.

He shouted at me, “Enough! The one who is not loved in love is the mistress. Since you know I love her, you shouldn't have combined with my mom to put on a show. Now you're even making an urn to seek bad luck. You're really as cheap as your mother, Rebecca. I know that you also know that you're not loved but still using all means to fight for a favour!”